


It Takes a Village to Raise a Child

by Tenoko1



Series: Tumblr Prompts [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Baby Angels, Babysitting, Curtain Fic, Domestic Fluff, Family Feels, It Takes a Village to Raise a Child, M/M, not as cracky as you would think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 13:39:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14021451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tenoko1/pseuds/Tenoko1
Summary: In which Chuck sets about creating a new generation of angels and decides the best way to avoid mistakes of the past is by having them live and grow on Earth before ever setting foot in Heaven.“It only makes the most sense,” Chuck had said.“It should only be a two-year time period,” he’d assured, “then they’ll be fully grown adult angels.”“Who better to help raise and teach a new generation of angels? Where better than the bunker? They need you.”Dumbass that he was, Dean’s only stipulation had been that if they had to raise them, they got to name them, because seriously, he was not dealing with a whole much more Jazriel, Miniel, Jediahel, -el, -el, -els all the livelong day, especially when this was basically an experiment in angel rearing.





	It Takes a Village to Raise a Child

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ThePlaidFox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePlaidFox/gifts).



> Commission fill for theplaidfox who wanted adventures in babysitting fledgling angels. Hope you like it!

“It only makes the most sense,” Chuck had said.

“It should only be a two-year time period,” he’d assured, “then they’ll be fully grown adult angels.”

“Who better to help raise and teach a new generation of angels? Where better than the bunker? They need you.”

Dumbass that he was, Dean’s only stipulation had been that if they had to raise them, they got to name them, because seriously, he was not dealing with a whole bunch more Jazriel, Miniel, Jediahel, -el, -el, -els all the livelong day, especially when this was basically an experiment in angel rearing.

“Jack,” he pleaded, twisting as he bounced the wailing infant in his arms, “hand me Robin’s pacifier.”

The Nephilim hooked his feet on the kitchen stool, leaning back with the toddler in his lap as far as he could with arm outstretched, pacy dangling from his fingertips. Dean grabbed it, settling it into the wide-open mouth screaming bloody murder near his ear, the sound stuttering then cutting off as Robin began to suck vigorously on it.

“Why is he crying?” Hope asked, her large brown eyes framed by auburn hair.

Dean held up the bottle he was making one-handed. “He’s hungry, too, y’know. It’s the only way he can tell us.”

Jack tapped the table with his index finger, drawing her attention back to the bowl of oatmeal. “Which is why you need to finish eating, too, so you aren’t hungry later.”

Golden feathers ruffled. “I don’t want it.”

“Hope, you have to eat breakfast or you can’t go play,” Dean told her. She pouted. “You eat, then you have _all the way_ until lunch to play.”

“Zepplin’s already playing.”

“Zepplin also already ate.”

Smiling, Jack stirred the oatmeal and spooned a bite of it. “Hope, you _like_ oatmeal.”

The walkie-talkie at Dean’s hip chirped.

“Are the bottles ready?” Cas asked.

Shifting to hold the swaddled angel in his arms while feeding him one-handed, Dean grabbed the device, plopping another bottle into the carrier. “Two more. It’ll be ready by the time you get here if you wanna come grab it.”

“I’m sending Violet.”

Something like a pout on his lips, Dean pushed down the disappointment at not having seen the other man yet that morning and hooked the walkie-talkie back on his jeans, returning to preparing the last of the bottles for the nursery while still feeding the angel he held.

As he finished the bottles and put everything away again, Robin’s wings tried to shift under the swaddling, then stilled, rest of his body squirming as his sucking died off.

“You good, buddy?” he asked, eyeing the contents and straightening the burp cloth over his shoulder. “There’s still a good ‘nother ounce. You done?” Wet lip smacks and sleepy eyes were the only response. He smiled, shifting to rest the tiny angel on his shoulder and patting gently. “C’mon, buddy, you gotta burp for me first, then you can go back to sleep.”

Soles slapped against cement in the corridor.

“No running,” Jack and Dean called out.

The footfalls stopped, Violet peeking her head around the door frame. She had lime green bows in her hair where they’d been pulled up into two large puffballs.

“Castiel said you needed me to carry somethin’.”

He nodded to the carrier. “Doesn’t mean you have to run.”

“How come Violet doesn’t have wings?” Hope demanded.

“She _does_ , but has learned how to _control_ them,” Jack said. “Hope. _Eat_ and _stop_ worrying about everyone else.”

“I wanna go play!”

“You have to finish _eating_.”

Sighing, Dean met Violet’s eye where she stood patiently holding the carrier. He jerked his chin toward the door. “I’m on channel three,” he threw back to Jack, who nodded.

In the library, several of the other kids were working on their chores for the day, Chaska and Riku arguing about who had done what and how properly. Sam was seated with books and his laptop, steadily working.

He flicked a glance at the boys. “Do it again.” Their heads swiveled. “If you’re arguing about it, start over and do it again so there’s no question.” They glared accusations at the other, argument dropping to a whisper and hand gestures. Sam sat back, hands and fingers folding together. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear that,” he told them, voice cool with warning.

They dropped their heads in defeat. “Yes, sir…”

“ _I_ already finished my chores,” Violet informed Dean, chin lifting as they made their way through the hallway.

Robin burped heartily against Dean’s shoulder and he grinned. “There we go, buddy! Can you give me another?” He looked at the girl walking beside him. She’d age another year over the next month or so. “Cleaned your room? Made your bed?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you do them _right_?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Do you have any other chores today?”

She shook her head. “No. I swept the map room and cleaned the kitchen yesterday.” She slid him a conspiratorial look, eyes narrowed as she angled her head up at him. “Rose hasn’t swept the corridors yet, though, _and_ she has dirty laundry all on her floor.”

“Are you tattling?”

“No, sir, just telling you.”

“Sounds like tattling.”

She dropped her gaze, full lips pushed out in a sulk. “Well, she did.”

“That’s not your business to tell, kid. If Rose didn’t do her chores, we’ll find out when Jack does room checks after breakfast.”

They reached the nursery just as Robin let out a final weak burp, lips smacking as he nuzzled closer to Dean’s neck. His mother turned, relieved at the sight of the bottles as she stood bouncing one of the newer angels, pacy in their mouth.

“Morning!”

“Good morning, Dean. Violet, honey, please hand me a bottle so I can feed Jasper.”

His gaze swept over the cribs lining the walls of the repurposed classroom, landing on Cas at the changing table as he finished doing up the onesie’s snaps and murmurring in low tones. Depositing Robin in his crib, Dean watched, warm and fond, as Cas scooped up the infant, chuckling lightly as their wings flickered in and out of existence, flapping and fluttering as he carefully settled them into the baby swing and set it to a gentle rock before straightening.

“Everyone has a fresh diaper,” he announced, then his smile shifted when he saw Dean, a fondness entering his eyes as he stepped in closer. “Hello, Dean.”

Biting his bottom lip, Dean plucked at the former angel’s white shirt, drawing him in closer and still marveling he was able to do this, new as it was.

“Hello, yourself,” he murmured against Cas’ mouth, kissing him soft and lingering.

“ _Gross_!” Violet declared.

Dean fought the flinch that came at the words. Fingers encircling his wrist, Cas rubbed his thumb over the delicate skin there, pressing a kiss to Dean’s jaw before looking at the girl who was technically his little sister.

“Love and affection are never gross, Violet.”

“ _Kissing_ is _gross_ ,” she said, arms folded and voice that imperious tone of kids who knew exactly what they were talking about and you were wrong.

“Showing Dean I love him? What about you? You _like_ getting tucked in and kissed goodnight. Should we stop?”

She pouted. “That’s different.”

“It’s not. People should always know you love them, and you should love without limitations, giving it freely and often.”

Scuffing her shoe, she shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. Hey, how many of the new babies are gonna be like me? Are there gonna be any more human-angel babies?”

Cas kissed him again and moved over to another crib, peeking in. “That’s left to be seen. Sometimes once they’re born they have more soul than grace, and that’s okay, too. It just means we have to find a family for them to grow up in like a normal child since they don’t grow nearly so fast as you.”

“You mean like Justice?” She angled her head. “You didn’t send her away. You kept her. Why don’t we keep all the babies and all the angels and all just live here all the time?”

Dean met Cas’ eye, both of them turning to the crib in the opposite corner.

The way Chuck was creating the new angels was a unique combination of human soul and grace in a physical body that sometimes didn’t always measure out, the balance shifting so that the angel was more human than anything, a Nephilim in their own right, like Jack.

The Original Angels were all being forced to live on Earth with a human or family for the same two years it would take one of the new angels to grow to maturity, in that time, hopefully learning more about free will and empathy, before they returned to Heaven and set about a new order with the two generations of angels working together.

Sometimes, though, the soul won out over the grace. The only one to do so thus far was Justice. She was the first angel Chuck brought them, and when her wings stopped manifesting, when she clearly wasn’t growing as fast as they expected, he’d called Chuck in a panic, already more attached than he’d told himself he was going to get and scared senseless something was wrong.

Chuck had wanted to take her back, to separate her and try again, that he’d miscalculated in the way he was attempting to make the second generation. Dean had clutched her to his chest and turned away, horrified.

“You want to take her apart and recreate her?”

Chuck gestured, frowning as he reached for her. “It won’t hurt, Dean. The process failed. She’s human, or well, Nephilim. I’m just going to redo it.”

“ _No_.” Sam and Mary watched, silent but coiled tight. Dean took a step back, shaking his head. “You are not… she’s not a broken _toy_ , Chuck, damn! You don’t just-- no!”

“Well, then she would need a human family because she’s going to grow up like a normal child, so what then?”

“Then _I’ll_ raise her,” he snapped, angrier than he could believe. “They’re _kids_ , Chuck. Not _things_! Maybe _you_ need to be housed with a foster family until _you_ learn a damn thing about having some humanity and empathy.”

Watery blue eyes blinked slowly, a storm rolling just beneath the surface as the weighted silence stretched.

“Alright, well. Congrats, Dean: you’re a father.”

The tone, more than the words themselves, had held a warning of threat. Despite being underground, Dean had clearly heard the roll of thunder outside. It was probably the only thing that kept him from snapping back he’d be a damn sight better one than Chuck had proven to be.

Turning his head, Chuck cast a glance to where Jack and Cas were seated at the library table, Jack studying a history book while Castiel watched with folded arms and lips pressed into a flat line.

“Jack,” the boy didn’t budge, “you’re welcome to live in Heaven among the other angels, y’know. They’re your family, too.”

The blond straightened, turning his head just enough to meet Chuck’s eye over his shoulder. “Did you once step in to protect my mother while your son repeatedly made her his victim?” He returned to his book. “Your family is not mine. Keep them.”

He pushed out his lips, gaze remote as it fell. “Castiel? What’s your position in the matter?”

“Does that really need to be asked?” He gestured. “ _My_ family is here, and you know the saying: it takes a village.”

“If you stay, you don’t do it as an angel.”

“Do you promise?”

In the months to follow, more angel infants had been delivered to their door, a proper nursery had been created, a system worked out, a routine set in place, and somewhere along the way, between bedtime stories and late-night exhaustion, Dean and Cas had finally gotten on the same page as well, with Justice as baby-makes-three.

“There’s not enough room for everyone to live here, Violet,” Dean told her. “And you’ll grow up a lot faster than Justice will.”

“Then I have to leave?”

Mary shook her head. “No, baby. We aren’t going to _make_ you leave. Jack and Cas decided to stay. You could, too. But you also get to go learn about helping people and how to use your angelic powers for miracles and answering prayers. We can’t teach you that.”

“I can still come home to visit?”

Moving over to kneel in front of her, Dean chuffed her under the chin. “Vi, anyone ever tells you can’t? You come _straight_ home right then, you understand? And I want to know their names if that happens.” She nodded, expression solemn as he pushed to his feet and gave her shoulder a pat. “Now go play. I have to go man the phones and help Sam get info for Aunt Jody and Aunt Donna.”

“And big sissie Claire?” she questioned, walking with him from the room. She looked up at him. “Can I be a hunter when I grow up instead of an angel?”

He ran a hand over her hair, smiling fondly. “Baby, you can be anything you want.”

 

END

 

 **NOTE:** I hope you enjoyed! Please remember to properly feed and water your fanwork creators via comments and kudos, both are the lifeblood of creators everywhere.

**Author's Note:**

> Total sidenote regarding angel babies and naming.
> 
> Dean named Justice, Zepplin, and Robin-- with Justice and Robin being nods to Batman, and because "the world could use a little Justice".
> 
> Cas generally picks names of plants and flowers.
> 
> Mary typically avoids naming any of the babies, but finally conceded and named Jasper. She'd rather not, though, like a bad trigger to the fact she never got to raise her own kids and she can't keep these either.
> 
> Sam picks names appropriate to race and ethnicity.
> 
> Jack named Hope, because the name and the idea are nice things and the world could do with a little more of both. Hope is also his favorite and more often than not right by his side or in his lap.
> 
> Age Range:  
> Robin- infant  
> Hope- 4  
> Zepplin- 5  
> Violet- 7/8  
> Chaska- 12  
> Riku- 8  
> Rose - 14  
> Justice - one year (though not actually that old, rapid aging just faded)  
> Liberty - infant  
> Victory - infant  
> Peace - infant  
> Lily - infant  
> Jasper - infant  
> Love - infant


End file.
